


Five Ways...

by akire_yta



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five Ways Martha Jones may have come aboard the TARDIS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways...

**Author's Note:**

> written for the inaugural Marthathon challenge, before we'd seen so much as a clip of her on the show :)

 

 

 

**1\. Born to the Purple**

Martha Jones grew up in London without a mother. Her mother had died in a car accident when she was just a baby, they told her. Nothing unique or strange in that, just a tragic accident. Even as a child, Martha knew that the story didn’t make sense. Not the way it was told to her.

Martha Jones grew up in a quiet street under her uncles’ watchful eye. She was expected to return home straight after school, to do her homework. What a dutiful child, what a good girl, they all said over her head like she couldn’t hear. They rewarded her with little treats. She told them she’d rather save them all up for a big treat. A trip to the seaside, perhaps, or over the Channel. She pinned a map on her wall and circled all the places she wanted to see. Her uncle tore it down. “Nothing special out there, m’girl,” he said as he tore the coloured paper into little pieces like confetti. “Nothing worth the trouble.”

Martha Jones grew up wanting to be an astronomer. The argument with her uncle over her choice raged for hours, not ending so much as petering out, both too exhausted to cover the same ground again. She would have been proud of me for wanting this, for being able to do this, she told him quietly. And her uncle agreed. “You know, you look so much like her. But I don’t want you to waste your life chasing ghosts, like she did,” he told her. She rose and went to pack her bags, and when he hugged her goodbye, it felt like she would never see him like this again.

Martha Jones grew up the day the aliens returned to London to avenge the sins her world had committed before she was born. When it was over, she found herself a little wearier, a little wiser, a little more cynical. So when the door opened into a space that was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, Martha Jones merely sprawled into the nearest seat and closed her eyes to his look of surprise. “Does this thing fly? Cos I’m too tired to walk back into town right now.”

Martha Jones took the scenic route home.

2\. **Companion Bingo**

The creature was green, glistening with slime, and had at least six tentacles that he could count. It was the red-dotted tie, fastened chokingly tight, that was the strangest part of the picture. “Round and round, Doctor. Where she stops, no-one knows!”

The Doctor sucked thoughtfully on his lip and considered his options. Sonic screwdriver would be a favourite, but in order to get to it, he needed to unlock the cuffs that bound him to the plinth in the centre of the dome. And he could do that with his sonic screwdriver...

Bit of a conundrum, that one.

Of course, there were all these other creatures out there, happily sans-handcuffs. Perhaps they’d like to help him, but it seemed that all of them were focussed on the big wheel spinning around and around and around.

As it slid to a halt, the crowd half-groaned, half-cheered.

“Congratulations, Doctor!” The be-tied one crowed. “You’ve won this handy slave! Well played! And now to our next contestant…”

The spotlight over his head snapped off as the cuffs snapped open, and tentacles – _definitely_ slimy – pulled him off the stand and into a tiny hidden passageway. From the sounds of it, he was being dragged under the stalls holding the audience.

“Hey, what was that he was saying about slaves?”

In response, the tentacles thrust him into a room and slammed the door behind him. The Doctor straightened his jacket and walked towards his TARDIS slowly.

The girl standing between him and her watched him approach with a deathly glare, her arms folded across her chest and…yes, she was tapping her toe. “I don’t care what slime-features said, I’m not a slave.” She reached out and poked him in the chest, hard. “And I’m not getting my kit off neither, you hear?”

The Doctor beamed at her. “Fancy a lift, then?”

3\. **Half-Pint**

Scrumpy. That was what it was called. How he’d spent all that time on Earth and not come across it before, well, didn’t bear thinking of. “And they make this from apples? Marvellous!”

The woman wiping down the counter laughed. “Yeah. Where have you been hiding, that you’ve never tried it before?”

The Doctor leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Oh, all over.”

“Really? Where? I’m saving up for a trip, maybe backpack across Europe.” She leaned forward and smiled at him. “Come on, tell us a story.”

The Doctor laughed. “Europe. Pah!” He waved his hand and took another swig. “Not worth visiting now. Back in the 1800s was best.”

She snorted, her smile twisting into a grimace. “1800s? Right mate, I think that’d better be your last.”

He leaned forward, eyes flashing. “I’m not drunk. I’m biologically incapable of getting drunk.”

The grimace turned into a look of good-humoured disbelief. “Yeah, right. Next you’re going to tell me you’re an alien.”

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked.

She laughed. “Oh come on. That’s a good one. Normally its just Rick getting pissed on a Friday night and thinking he’s Napoleon Bonaparte.”

The Doctor nodded his head. “Well, since I’ve got the only time machine in the neighbourhood, he’s probably just…drunk.”

“Time machine?” There was a look of challenge in her eye, and the Doctor found himself sitting up straighter, moving to meet it.

“Yeah.”

She untied her apron and tossed it on the counter. “Come on then hotshot. Prove it.”

4\. **Left Outside Alone**

When the dust cleared, there wasn’t much left. Not much that was recognizable as the town that was here before, anyway. Human beings – they would dance across the universe if only they managed to avoid blowing themselves up first.

He turned to the pair who had helped him, junior scientists at the facility that had just gone boom in the quiet, earthquake producing way, and not the island-sinking way, which would have been a little bit louder. “What are you going to do now?”

She shrugged as she looked at her partner. “I don’t know. Might try taking our records to London, show them what happened here, but…” They may have been junior scientists, but they already had a good grasp of the politics of their situation. No matter how many whistles they blew, there was not much they could do to have this all start over again. The man, James something or other, looked at him in embarrassment as she leant on his shoulder and started quietly to weep.

Behind them, the TARDIS stood, her blue walls an uncharacteristic splash of colour amid the greyness of rock and dust.

“You could always come with me.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized that was what he was thinking. In the back of his mind, he felt the TARDIS hum softly, invitingly. Emboldened, he elaborated. “I mean, it’s a busy life, never stopping. You’d get to see the universe, and I…” he trailed off. He’d have someone to talk to again, to share running jokes with and watch his back and all the other things he took for granted until they weren’t there again.

They were staring at him, eyes wide and blank. The Doctor was moving, feet and mouth bypassing brain entirely this time. “Or not. You’re right, you should probably get those documents to the Prime Minister or whoever…as long as it’s not Harriet Jones, hah hah.” The door to the TARDIS was at his back, and swung open obediently as he pressed against it. “Good luck.” With a bad pretence of a jaunty wave, he slammed the door shut and raced to the controls. Only when the hum of the TARDIS in flight built to cruising pitch did he finally relax. He flopped backwards.

“WHA!” he shouted in surprise as the soft, bony, definitely not-chair squeaked and leapt away from him.

He pointed at her, at the door, and at her again. His mouth flapped, desperately searching for the right question to ask.

With a giggle, the girl reached over and tapped his chin until his mouth closed. “That’s better,” she told him. “My names’ Martha. I was Professor Allan’s PA, but since he’s gone, I needed a new job.” Her smiled amped up into the gigawatt range. “And you looked like a person who needs an assistant.” She stepped back and folded her hands neatly in front of her. “So? Am I hired?”

The TARDIS rematerializing saved the Doctor from having to answer immediately. Helping Martha up, he glanced at the monitor and grinned. “Hired? Well, let’s start you off on a trial basis. Know anything about the Bugblatter Beasts of Trall? No? Marvellous, let’s go.”

Taking her hand, he headed for the door.

 

 

**5\. Viper’s Nest**

They circled each other warily around the main console.

“You’re not staying.”

“Probably not,” she said, her tone making her words seem almost nonsensical. “But just to have been here!” As she passed the monitor, the glow made her eyes shine. “Do you know how many books and papers have been written about what the inside of the TARDIS might be like, Doctor? Reams, stacks. I have hard drives full of them.” Her head dipped, but the green light of the console hid the blush that the Doctor suspected was blooming across her cheeks. “I’ve read them all. I always told the guys I was going to write a paper, synthesizing the existing ideas, but none of them…wow.” her eyes tracked up to the roof and down the onion-like dome, taking in every feature.

The Doctor stopped dead. “Hang on, let me get this straight. You’re one of them, correct?”

She dug into her pocket and produced an ID badge, tossing it to him. He caught it awkwardly, and held it up to the light. Martha Jones, Records and Research – Torchwood. Letting it dangle by its cord, he continued. “Okay, yes, you’re with Torchwood. And you snuck aboard my TARDIS because…”

She shrugged. “She was there. When else would I get such an opportunity.” As if unable to control herself, she looked away from him, her eyes moving intelligently over the array of buttons and gizmos wedded to the console. “None of them do her justice,” he breathed.

In a split second, the Doctor made the decision he hadn’t even realized he had been considering until that very moment. “She is rather,” he said with a cheeky smile. “Wanna see what she can do?”

 

**And one way she didn’t…**

“Come with me.”

Martha looked at him as if he were something she had scraped off her shoe. “You have got to be kidding. I don’t know you from Jack, mate.” He reached out his hand and she shied away. “Get away from me, creep!”

The Doctor watched her disappear around the corner, then went back to the TARDIS alone.


End file.
